translating shiv kumar batalvi: udhara geet

a humble attempt at translating a poem by shiv kumar batalvi

borrowed song

oh sweet lord

lend me another song or a half

my fire’s going out please

give me another spark

in my early years of infancy

i’ve laid all my hurt to waste

for the season of my youth now

please lend me more pain chaste

give me a song like my youth

dusky, mystically beguiling

like the red of the day at dawn

sets aglitter the whole tank

or like in a treeless land

at twilight the first star

in my land too it’s getting dark

give me another star or a half

or like the redness fiery

in the lake dissolve me

without a lover i can spend days long

but not, o lord, without a song

a lifetime anyone can squander

a fortunate few are fated pain

and lord, is every shore graced

by a doe sipping at the lake

drain away the untouched waters then

of my lake too unclaimed

or the songs that you got me to write

take those too back again

let me not extol beauty

that as an equal to fire doesn’t stand

and not praise the eye, o lord

whose tears are but bland

let me not sing songs that aren’t in pain steeped

or say words that aren’t fragrant scented sweet

if not fragrant my words happen to be

break them off the branch

or like my youth lend me

another song or a half

in my early years of infancy

i’ve laid all my hurt to waste

for the season of my youth now

please lend me more pain chaste